


The bastard of Vask

by AlyaG



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Angst, Auntie Halvik, Canon-Typical Violence, Damen is a dad, Damen’s daughter, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fatherhood, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Post-Canon, Uncle Nikandros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-10-24 17:49:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20710070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyaG/pseuds/AlyaG
Summary: “Kiss her,’ said Laurent.He didn’t need to be told what to do or how to do it by Laurent, and he proved that with a long, deliberate kiss. Kashel made a sweet, yielding sound, her fingers already following the path that her eyes had travelled moments before. His hands slid up her tunic and fit almost all the way around her small waist.”What if Kashel did get pregnant? What if she had a daughter? And what if, fifteen years later, Damen and Laurent met that child?





	1. Prologue

She was born on a rainy night, they’d told her. The thunder had camuflated her cries, and those of her mother while in labor, and they had to wait a few days to celebrate her birth.  
From the first moment she’d looked at her, Halvik had chosen her as her favorite “niece”, as she called her. They’d also explained that it had been Halvik who’d chosen her name, and that her initial was the same one as her father’s.   
Daysha, Halvik had named her.  
Day, her mother had called her, softness in her eyes and her smile, up until the moment she’d drawn her last breath after being killed during a hunt when her daughter was only seven years of age.  
Day, her friends called her, looking up at her, for she was the tallest and strongest out of all the women in her clan. Like her father, Halvik had explained.   
Day, the first man she’d ever loved had called her, a boy from another, friendly clan, up until he’d died in her arms after being sick for days. He was gone before she ever knew she’d loved him, too young at fourteen to know anything about what love was.  
So at the age of fifteen, Daysha knew that there was nothing that lasted forever, and that everyone left eventually, and that aloneness was the only true remedy for sorrow.  
And then she met her father.


	2. Never without my permission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soo chapter one people be happy : )  
Btw all titles are lines from movies feel free to ask (and comment).

Day was utterly bored. It was past the children’s bedtime, so she no longer had to watch over them, and it was far too late for training. Her friends had all gone to the river to play a game, but she didn’t feel like joining them. Instead, she walked around the camp until she stumbled upon their leader, and the woman who had named her; Halvik.  
“Daysha” Halvik said, putting the stress in the ‘y’ as she always did, and smiled one of her viper-like smiles. “Walk with me.”  
Day complied, imitating the woman’s slow pace, and Halvik ruffled her braided hair somewhat tenderly by her standards. “How was your day, aunt?” Day asked. Ever since her mother’s death, Halvik had insisted that she called her that.  
“Boring as ever”, her aunt answered. “The men from the other side of the river are growing restless. They want our lands”.  
“We should watch out for them, then”Day stated, knowing that Halvik was definitely testing her. “But without starting any conflict ourselves”.  
Halvik nodded, clearly pleased and gave her a rare, genuine smile. “I believe that’s what the pretty snake would do”.  
The pretty snake, for those unused to Halvik’s particular language, was her nickname for the king of Vere and emperor of Igridia, the only land. Laurent of Vere and his husband and other emperor of Igridia, Damianos of Akielos, had united their kingdoms after centuries of war, and were Halvik’s allies. She admired the pretty snake, and to be compared to him by her was a great compliment.  
“Thank you”, Day said, smiling warmly, and Halvik blinked a few times.  
“You look a lot like him when you smile like that”, she said, suddenly distracted. Day didn’t need to ask to know who she was referring to. Her mysterious father.  
“Was he a good man?” She’d asked once, many years ago, and Halvik had given her a smile and no answer at all. After that, Day had stopped asking.  
By the time they reached Halvik’s enormous tent, Day could see her friends coming back up the path that lead to the river, and became restless. Halvik followed her gaze and smiled knowingly. “Go, child”, she said. “Leave this old woman to rest her tired bones”.  
“I doubt you’ll ever be old, aunt” was Day’s answer, gifted with a smile and a small wave as she darted towards her friends. Having left already, she didn’t hear Halvik agreeing sadly with her.

“Hara! Innar!” Day screamed, and her two friends looked at her. Out of the three of them, Hara was the oldest at seventeen, her raven black hair and strong dark eyes betraying her as Halvik’s daughter and heir. Her brother Innar was sixteen, and he shared his sister’s dark hair, but his eyes had a strange purple color that had had every single woman in the clan asking Halvik who his father was, even if she never said a word about him. Innar was the only boy over twelve in the clan, and he was already speaking of traveling around to find some more men to talk to.  
“And why did you not join us?” Hara asked. “I though my brother was going to cry and but his sword through his heart to stop himself from missing you”.  
Innar gave his sister a murderous look and spat at the floor before her. “Sometimes I wonder if you want to reach adulthood”, he said, and his sister laughed.  
“As if you could come even close to defeating me, pup”, she answered, and her brother groaned and stalked towards his tent, leaving them alone.  
“You do know that he likes men”, Day said, “don’t you? That’s the true reason behind his desire to travel and find more men”.  
“Oh, I’m well aware”, Hara smiled, putting an arm over Day’s shoulders. “I’m just waiting for him to tell me about it”.  
“Mocking him won’t make him tell you”.  
“Don’t underestimate my ability to annoy my brother into telling me the truth, my friend”, Hara’s smile became positively devilish and Day couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Do you want to practice fighting in the dark?” Hara added.  
Day shook her head. “No. I believe that if we fight now, Innar will kill you and blame me for it”.  
“Don’t be dramatic. Well, I imagine you can’t stop yourself; you are, after all, fifteen”.  
“Hey! You were fifteen yourself not so long ago!” Day answered, stepping away from her friend’s embrace. Hara took the opportunity to put her arm over her head like an overheated actress.  
“Oh, being fifteen!” She mocked. “The sheer drama of it! The intense need to couple all the time and the only male available is looking for a man himself!”  
“You’re ridiculous” Day declared, and left to go to her tent. “Good night. I hope Innar does end you in the middle of the night”.  
“I love you too!” Hara screamed behind her, but Day didn’t turn around. She walked into her tent and went to bed, blissfully ignorant of what was to come.

It was well past the first lights of dawn when Day woke up. That itself was strange, since Innar was fond of waking her up at ungodly hours to make her train alongside him. However, this time, it wasn’t her friend that woke her up, but the noise coming from the outside of her tent.  
When she came out to look, she saw fire. Suddenly, the ground seemed to shake beneath her as her stomach flew to the sky, fear a bitter thing running down her throat. She took her sword and launched for Halvik’s tent, ignoring the men who came screaming at her unless it was absolutely necessary to strike them down.  
The men from across the river, she thought, clenching her teeth and clutching her sword a little bit tighter. Halvik had seemed so sure that they wouldn’t...  
She had been wrong, pretty obviously.  
When she reached Halvik’s tent, the first thing she saw was Hara laying on the ground, her head bleeding, and Innar being restrained by two men as he tried to run towards his sister. She wanted to run at them, but a steady hand grabbed her arm.  
“Child” said Halvik, her face a mask of grief and determination. “No time to cry now. You need to get to Marlas and find Laurent of Vere. Once you do, tell him I sent you and give him your warmest smile. Explain what happened here and ask for his help”.  
“But...” Day began, looking towards her only friends, two of the few people she had loved in her life who had not left her.  
“I’ll stay with them”, her aunt answered. “I’m their mother. I cannot leave them”.  
That said, Halvik walked calmly into the clearing where her tent stood, effectively distracting the men and giving Day an opportunity to run. And so she did, even as her heart was breaking and her eyes became overflowed by tears.  
She took Innar’s horse, because it was the fastest, and she had the mind to stop by his tent, a little further away than the others, to take some gold and clothes before running away like a coward.  
Behind her, the smoke rising from the camp told the story of the tragedy that had occurred.


	3. You can’t handle the truth

It was huge.

Marlas was huge.

As she walked through the walls of the city, Day knew she looked like a wide-eyed country girl, stunned at the beauty of the city, the grandiose of it, the...

“Move for the prince of Akielos!”

Before she knew it, she was being pushed to the side of the street, shoved against a building and falling to the ground, in a completely ungraceful and un-warriorlike manner. She got back up as fast as possible, years of training coming to her aid, just in time to see an enormous dark horse being ridden by a large man pass her by. The prince of Akielos, she guessed. She knew from Halvik that the prince was not really the king’s son, but his nephew, the bastard child of Kastor of Akielos and the Lady Jokaste. What was his name? Teon? Tiolon?

“Prince Timon of Akielos has graced you with his presence!” The same voice yelled again, and Day had to restrain herself to stop herself from drawing out her sword and killing someone. Prince Timon, most likely, as he looked down to the people around him with a pair of piercing blue eyes as cold as ice and yet as prepotent as a boy who’s just lost his virginity.

Day looked away from the royal prick and went back to the actual matter at hand; planning how to enter the palace and get aid from Laurent of Vere without any proof that Halvik had actually sent her. She was already trying to squeeze into a back alley when a cold voice stopped her:

“Girl, stop”. It was a voice that demanded to be obeyed, used to instant and mindless servitude. And of course, Day, who had been born and raised in Vask, had the powerful impulse to tell him to go shove his orders up where the sun didn’t shine. She was already angry at the men who had raided her village and taken her friends form her, and so it was a big effort for her to simply turn around and look up to the prince of Akielos.

“Yes?” She asked, looking him straight in the eye, unyielding, and the world seemed to stop for a moment, before the noise creeped back in and the horse huffed.

“Yes, Exalted” the prince corrected.

“There’s no need to call me Exalted, prince Timon”, Day said, a poisonous smile on her face and a little bitterness on her heart.

Some people in the crowd let out and incredulous laugh, and some of the guards raised their weapons, not knowing she was a lot more motivated than them to win that fight. Everyone, however, was watching the prince to see how he reacted.

Finally, after a silence that seemed to stretch into eternity, he let out a small smile. He was handsome, Day noticed, when he stopped looking like he had a stick up his backside, dark eyes glowing and a little scar over his left eye giving him a dangerous appearance.

“Join me”, he said. “I like you. You’re interesting. Come to the palace to meet the emperors of Igridia”.

She tilted her head and looked up at him through her eyelashes. “How do I know you won’t kill me for disrespecting you?”

“You don’t”, was his answer. “But isn’t this the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to you?”

And he offered his hand.

Day hesitated, but it was the best shot she had at entering the palace. At least, it was the fastest, and she had no time to spare. So she took the prince’s hand and let him haul her up to his horse, which was very impressive, since she was not what you would call a lightweight. The prince put his arms around her and the horse began moving as he whispered in her ear: “Well now that I’ve got you, you’re going straight to prison”.

She turned around and saw him smiling, so she huffed. “I would like to see you try. I hear princes are brought up knowing only how to stay on their horses and not fall off”.

“Untrue”, he answered. “We’re also rather good in bed, or so I’m told”.

“By your unreliable, social-climbing lovers?”

He laughed at that. “Yes, but by a few number of Vaskian warriors too. Do you trust your countrywomans’ judgement?”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “Over a man’s? Always. But don’t tire yourself, prince Timon. You’re not getting me to fuck you”.

“Maybe”, he answered. “Maybe not. I will get you, however, to entertain me for a while at Court. As much as I enjoy the Patran delegation, they are not interesting people”.

She shrugged. Even though she agreed, a normal warrior wouldn’t have met many Patrans. “Perhaps. I have never met a Patran delegation myself.”

“No, I wouldn’t think so”, he said, so condescendingly she had the urge to throw him off the horse. “Poor, little peasant. Have you come to Marlas looking for a thrill?”

“No, I was hoping to be picked up on the street by a prince”, she answered, and even though her smile was poisonous, he obviously didn’t notice, for he gifted her a charmer’s smile and scooted a bit closer.

“For someone determined to not fuck me, you are trying rather hard to enchant me”.

“I have sound diplomatic instincts”.

He laughed, and soon enough they had reached the palace’s gates. They opened for the prince, and there were even a few people waiting for them. The prince got off the horse and offered her a hand, but she jumped down instead and shot him a murderous look, to which he laughed.

“I see you share your uncle’s taste, Timon” a smooth, cold voice said, and Day turned around to see the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on. He was blond, his hair reflecting the sunlight and brightening his already clear face. He was all sharp edges and beauty, like a statue, and if he stood still enough Day could think he wasn’t breathing. His eyes were piercingly blue, and they looked upon her and showed no emotion, not a hint of what he was thinking, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was in the presence of Laurent of Vere, the pretty snake himself.

She didn’t bow.

He knew that she had recognized him, and so he raised an eyebrow.

“Laurent”, prince Timon said, stepping before her and blocking her from his view. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You seem to enjoy people who insult you repeatedly”, Laurent said, in the same tone, and Day thought of water sliding over a rock.

“Surely you don’t mean uncle Damen enjoys people insulting him”, prince Timon said. Day took a step to the side to look at Laurent again, and the king of Vere tilted his head slightly and stared at her even as he answered:

“He married me, didn’t he?”

Prince Timon opened his mouth to answer, but Lauren had clearly lost interest in him, because he took a step towards Day. “And who are you?”

“Just someone I brought”, prince Timon said, looking clearly confused. “You never pay attention to my companions”.

Laurent gave him a sidelong glance. “She looks familiar”, he explained, and then looked at her again, still waiting for his answer.

Day remembered Halvik’s words. ‘Tell him I sent you and give him your warmest smile’. She shrugged mentally and smiled at the pretty snake, thinking about Hara and Innar to keep her smile true.

“My name is Daysha, pretty snake”, she said. Prince Timon raised an eyebrow and stared at her. “Halvik sent me”.

Laurent’s eyes widened slightly as he let out a shadow of a laugh. Then, he looked at her for a moment more and put a hand over his mouth momentarily before putting it back down and looking indifferent again.

“How old are you?” He asked. Day frowned.

“Fifteen”.

“What’s your mother’s name?” Laurent asked immediately after, and he seemed so interested in her answer that she didn’t want to give it.

“What is it to you?” She asked, and something in her face made him react and look even more... something. She couldn’t tell what he was feeling, but she knew it was intense.

“Answer me”, he demanded, his tone cool and sharp. They locked eyes for a second, and Day was the first to look away.

“My mother died when I was a child, your majesty”, she began. “But her name was Kashel”.

Laurent of Vere, king of kings and emperor of emperors, took a step back, eyes widening and mouth open.

“What?”, Prince Timon asked, clearly tired of being ignored. “Who is she?”

“Come with me”, Laurent ordered, still ignoring him, and then immediately left. Day looked at the prince for a second before following the king.

“We need help”, she said. “We’ve been raided, and we... King Laurent!”

But Laurent had no interest in that. He waved her away, clearly lost in his own thoughts, and guided her through the halls until they reached a large open space which looked a lot like a throne room. Sitting on one of the thrones, looking incredibly bored, there was the largest man Day had ever seen, a huge animal with dark skin and dark eyes, who looked at them and brightened when he saw Laurent. It had to be king Damianos of Akielos.

“Laurent?” The king asked when he saw his lover’s face. “What is it?”

Laurent stopped before the throne and looked back at her. She also stopped moving and stared right back, confusion and uncertainty pooling in her stomach.

“Halvik sent her”, Laurent explained, and she had to interrupt:

“The camp’s been raided”, she repeated. “We need urgent help, and aunt Halvik told me to come here and ask you—”

“Aunt Halvik?” King Damianos asked.

“Damen”, Laurent asked, and the king’s attention immediately went to him, as if nothing else was as important. Laurent looked at him for a second, searching for something on his face, before saying: “She’s fifteen years old, and she’s Kashel’s daughter”.

Day still didn’t understand.

“Why does that matter to you?” She asked. “Why is my mother’s name relevant here? She’s been dead for seven years! My friends are not dead, and they need your help!”

When she was done screaming, she was left with two great kings staring at her. The blond one looked calculating, but the other one was evidently confused about his own feelings. Seconds later, his features melted into something incredibly kind—warm, even—. However, it was Laurent who answered:

“Your mother’s name is relevant because she and Damen went to the coupling fires together about sixteen years ago.”

It took her a few moments to realize what that meant. She looked at the king of Akielos.

“You’re my father”, she whispered.


End file.
